


on the dotted line

by Cazio



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholic Tony Stark, Angst, Divorce, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Secret Identity, Suspected Cheating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-17 07:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cazio/pseuds/Cazio
Summary: Steve has given up everything to save Tony from himself, but even semi-retiring from the Avengers and moving across the country hasn't stopped the inevitable. And he's also pretty sure Tony is cheating on him with Iron Man, so there's that too.Secret identities, divorce, and lots of angst, as always.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> welcome back! this prompt is brought to you by Marvel Trumps Hate 2018, with a winner who requested some stony divorce and some secret identities to bring on the angst. enjoy! 

Dust filtered through a shaft of sunlight in Steve Roger’s office. He occupied a sophisticated leather desk chair, sitting at a sleek glass top desk that was clean of clutter. There weren’t even desk decorations, nor photos. He preferred to keep his personal life outside of work as much as possible. The only indication he even had a personal life was the titanium alloy wedding ring wrapped snug around his finger.

Steve had always judged people who got divorced. He couldn’t help it—he had always seen marriage as something with greater importance than a relationship.

He’d been one of the old-timers who had seen a spiking divorce rate as a parallel to immorality, even if he never said it that way. He tried to be open-minded, he tried to see how people’s idea of marriage had changed to let divorce be a viable option. Hell, he’d come out two years ago as a man interested in men, and he still hadn’t been able to accept that one.

But now he sat at his desk and stared at a packet listing out a division of assets, reason for divorce, the names TONY STARK and STEVE ROGERS staring back at him in print. He’d looked through the entire thing about six times over the past few months, and it was a year ago that he’d even mustered the nerve to request them.

He’d first served them to a drunk, a man nothing like the one he’d fallen in love with. Tony didn’t go a day without being angry, without hurling insults or screams. There had been countless promises of getting sober, all of them dashed in less than a week.

The most recent time, Steve had let himself believe it was true. Tony improved, was happier than usual, even took him out on a date like the old days. But then he’d found the Oxycodone, the Xanax, the bottles and bottles of Adderall.

So here he was, fingering through the now-feathered pages of the divorce agreement drawn up by Tony’s lawyers that still hadn't been signed. The only indication that Tony cared about him at all were the terms that he was going to get a million-dollar yearly salary on top of his consultant pay, and a monthly housing stipend. Of course, Steve didn’t need any of that money, but Tony’s lawyers had insisted it was part of the deal.

His team interface monitor lit up, showing an incoming Avengers call.

He’d quit the Avengers eight months ago to take Tony to a ritzy rehab facility in Aspen, Colorado. It might’ve worked if Tony hadn’t somehow worked out how to get charters back to New York every couple of days. When Steve asked him what he could possibly need in New York when everything they needed was here, Tony couldn’t answer.

That had been the beginning of Steve’s suspicions that Tony was hiding something from him. Someone. 

“Afternoon, Cap.” A hologram of Iron Man popped up on the screen. He looked to be flying somewhere.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, not yet looking up from the terms of his divorce.

It was hard to believe that his fairytale had gone so grim. Love was supposed to save everything, to be the tether to keep them both from straying too far.

“Remember those poison dart monster things?” Iron man asked. “Well, I think those were babies, and momma’s here to exact revenge.”

Steve looked up as Iron Man’s scans started appearing all over his desk surface, depicting a creature that resembled a crab, except it could fly an spit molten acid that could melt school buses. Iron Man’s AI program was scanning everything it could to try to locate weak points, but this creature was different than the ones that they’d faced before.

“Does it react to electricity?” Steve asked, opening his desk drawer and putting the agreement away so he could get to work. He checked his phone, but there were no messages from Tony. No response to his asking if they could talk later.

“Thor zapped it a few times, just seems to piss it off more,” Iron Man grumbled, dodging a spray of poison. “I could use your help on civilian evacuation though. We’re trying to herd this thing toward water but I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

Steve nodded to himself. “Yeah, might not be the best choice. Could poison the water supply or show us some new tricks.”

He felt a familiar ache, wishing he could be out there in combat fighting alongside his friends. A distraction from his oncoming divorce would be a godsend right now. But he’d made his move, and he was sticking to it. Until things ended with Tony, he was going to be an Avengers consultant. On the off chance things between them were fixed, he’d take steps to rejoin the team. But they were past being fixed now.

“Well, looks like Hulk found something,” Iron Man said, flicking his live feed onto Steve’s desk. Hulk had the creature by the mouth, pulling back with all of his might. The creature sputtered, but appeared immobilized by the move, but it was still struggling to free itself where it could.

“Does it have gills?” Steve asked, trying to zoom in.

“Looks like it,” Iron Man replied.

“Can you send Ant Man up there?”

“You can definitely send me up there, Cap,” Ant Man replied earnestly.

“Since when are you on our feed?” Iron Man snapped.

“Since now?”

“Friday, get him the hell off.”

“Done, boss,” Friday replied.

Steve watched as Sam flew in, throwing Ant Man into the gills of the creature while Hulk held it up.

“Giant Man?” Ant Man asked over the team comm.

“Do your thing,” Iron Man said. “Sorry, Steve. Things were looking hairy for a minute, thought we’d need more help.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said genuinely. “I’m glad to be included.”

Steve watched with a grimace as the creature was ripped apart from the inside, Giant Man elbowing his way out of the creature with a battle cry.

It had been a big subject of debate to decide which supers would be giving up their identities. Steve had no issue announcing himself to the team. Many people knew who he was in the public sphere as well, given that all of his documents had been declassified after he went in the ice. Some chose to keep their personal lives completely separate. Iron Man had said once that he had a past, and as the unofficial leader of the team, he didn’t want to be seen as lesser than. He’d told that to Steve in confidence, and even Steve didn’t know his true identity. Iron Man was a private person, an incredible mind, and was one of the few supers that Steve could see surviving well on his own. Most importantly, Iron Man was his friend in a dwindling pool.

Ant Man stayed hidden to protect his family. Steve knew his real name was Scott, but that was all he knew. He never asked. He never even asked Iron Man, and they were close friends. Best friends, even. Especially now that Tony was losing ground there.

He watched the screen as Iron Man switched to a private channel.

“Steve,” Iron Man said, his voice a little softer. “Everything alright?”

Steve often wondered what Iron Man did for a living outside of the team. What his hobbies were. He was incredibly sensitive to emotion in others, and Steve suspected he might be a therapist. It’d be a perfect cover. And he seemed to know Tony better than Steve did most of the time.

“I’m good, Shellhead,” Steve replied, but he could hear the lie in his own voice.

“Rogers.”

He sighed. “It’s Tony.” He knew he shouldn’t talk about it anymore—he’d practically talked Iron Man’s ear off at this point, but he was always so attentive. Like he truly cared what was happening in a way even Sam and Bucky didn’t quite match. Bucky didn’t like Tony at all—hated him, actually. Would probably have killed him by now if Steve hadn’t married him.

“What about Tony?” Iron Man asked.

Steve watched as the rest of the team swooped in and started cleaning up monster parts off the street. Hulk started studying, and Steve could tell Iron man wanted to be down there studying with him.

“You should finish this up,” Steve said quietly.

“Uh oh.” Iron man stopped his descent, hovering over the team. “That bad today?”

A lump formed in Steve’s throat. He hated that it had come to this. Divorce was supposed to happen to other people, not to them. They had been so perfect together, so right for each other. And Steve still loved Tony, but loving him had become too painful. Tony wouldn’t accept help, and Steve couldn’t stand to see him endanger himself any further. He loved someone who was no longer present in his husband.

“I think it’s time,” he said, his voice twinging with emotion. “He hasn’t responded to my texts all day, I think he’s out on a bender. I, uh, was just looking through the paperwork before you called.”

There was a long pause, and Steve hated it. Like he was being judged a failure.

“I mean, I’m not sure yet,” he started. “But it’s been—the past few weeks have been—”

“Steve, you don’t have to justify anything to me,” Iron Man said. “He’s treated you like shit. He should at least be able to respond to a text.”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, but it was heavy.

“Do you still love him?” Iron Man asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said repeated, emotion tugging insistently now.

“Well,” Iron Man said after a moment. “Sometimes that’s not enough. He obviously doesn’t care about you, and you can’t keep putting yourself through that.”

“He cares,” Steve said almost bitterly. “It’s not his fault. He’s just…it’s addiction. And alcoholism. That’s what’s taking him away.”

“Those are things he needs to sort out himself,” Iron Man said. “You’ve done your part to help, Steve. You’ve gone above and beyond for him.”

Steve bristled at his desk, but said nothing. If he had truly gone above and beyond, wouldn’t Tony be sober now? If he had truly been a great husband, why was his husband still more interested in drugs and alcohol than him?

“Thanks, Iron Man,” he managed to force out before too long of a pause.

His phone buzzed and Steve felt his entire body tense as he looked over and saw that the message as from Tony.

_You ending it? – TS_

Steve shut his eyes, willing himself not cry at his desk.

“I have to go,” he said abruptly. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“You know what’s best for you,” Iron Man said. He was still just hovering there, not helping the team and instead talking to him about his stupid personal problems again. “I think this is the right choice.”

“Bye, Shellhead,” Steve said quickly, hanging up the call.

The desk went blank, scans and video feeds vanishing into the glass, leaving Steve staring at his reflection. It was hard for him to look tired with how long it took for him to feel fatigue, but he barely recognized the man staring back at him, all hard lines and stern features.

He picked up his phone.

_I want to talk to you. Can you please come home? - SR_

Tony was at least sober enough to type without any misspellings, so that was something. Maybe there was a chance they could have a real conversation, a rarity now.

_Give me a few hours. – TS_

_I think I’ve given you enough. I’d like to talk to you sober, please. – SR_

He knew he wouldn’t get a response, and he knew he wouldn’t be seeing Tony for another few hours. He doubted the man who showed up would be sober either. In fact, Tony was probably downing more drinks and pills to prepare himself for their talk. Tony was no idiot. He knew exactly what what going to happen when he walked in the door.

Steve wiped his eyes. Took a deep breath. Pulled open the drawer and removed the divorce papers again, that black print glaring at him. He set it neatly on the desktop and began to read.

This time, it was going back into the drawer with two signatures. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a heads up, i've changed the rating from mature to explicit and added more tags. my works rarely include sex, but this one does (this chapter at least) and it ain't pretty. if reading sex scenes isn't your thing, same. this isn't PWP. 

He found the helmet the following Wednesday, after the divorce papers had gone off to the lawyers to begin the formal separation process. It was buried under some clothes in Tony’s closet, a crumpled Post-It still stuck to the side. The writing was rushed, haphazard Sharpie scrawled across yellow paper, but the words said enough.

_I love you. Stay safe, and don’t ruin your pretty face._

There was no signature, and there didn’t need to be. Iron Man’s helmets were unique, created with metal alloys only he knew how to make.

Steve’s stomach dropped.

There had to be another explanation. Iron Man had never been to Aspen—that Steve knew of, anyway. So he didn’t understand how a helmet would have ended up there. He’d been the one to pack everything and move them here, and he certainly hadn’t seen it then.

Unless Tony had brought it back with him after one of his escapes from New York. Where he seemed to run off to at least once a week now, and those were only the times Steve had caught him.

He glanced behind him before reaching over to pick it up. A quick flip of the helmet revealed it was no model. It was a real, working Iron Man helmet.

It suddenly made sense why Iron Man was always so interested in Tony, why he always seemed to know him best.

“My robe is on the hook in the back, Cap,” Tony called from bed. “You okay in there?”

Steve jumped, quickly returning the helmet to where he’d found it and covering it with clothes. He grabbed Tony’s red silk robe and returned to the bedroom, trying his best to push the little note out of his mind.

The revelation probably should have shocked him more, but everything was fitting into place—pieces of the puzzle finally finding their rightful spots. It made so much sense.

“It fell off the hangar,” Steve lied. “Not wrinkled or anything that I can see, though.”

Tony sat up, cheeks still flushed from sex as he reached out for the robe to inspect it.

“I can always buy another one if it gets ruined,” he murmured. A sly grin spread on his face and he tossed the robe to the side. It slid off the bed in a pool of shining crimson.

Tony was high, and he didn’t think Steve had noticed. But he could tell in the way Tony’s hands ran over his body over and over like he’d forgotten what he’d just touched. He was probably on some combination of Xanax and Adderall, which definitely wasn’t healthy, but as Tony would say, he hadn’t died yet. And if Steve was being honest, he seemed almost normal on this combo. Almost sober.

Steve crawled back into bed without being beckoned, meeting Tony’s lips for a loving kiss. Tony moaned softly against his mouth, another indicator that he wasn’t sober. When Tony was high this way, he was hypersensitive and incredibly eager for sex, but all Steve could think about was how Iron Man probably knew the same thing. Tony probably acted like this more often than not at…wherever Iron Man lived. Maybe they had penthouses in buildings next to each other, or Iron Man just rocketed over to Tony’s after every mission.

“You have to go to group,” Steve reminded him.

“I don’t _have _to,” Tony said before his teeth latched to Steve’s neck. He sucked there, gentle but firm until Steve could feel his skin darkening. He hated that it made him a little breathless.

It wasn’t fair. They hadn’t fucked in so long, Steve had _needed _it.

“I want you to,” Steve countered.

Tony pulled off, then ran his tongue over the mark in a way that made him shiver. “Want me to what, Steve?”

He jerked slightly when Tony’s hand wrapped around his length and began to stroke him. Steve bit his lip, trying to regain clarity when his mind was quickly fogging with lust. Even though they’d just fucked last night—twice—and now once already this morning. And Tony had given him a blowjob in the shower, and a handjob from behind while he stood at the sink and tried to find a semblance of his morning routine. The serum was both a curse and a blessing in the bedroom. He could go all night (and had before), but it also meant any time Tony started touching him he couldn’t say no. Didn’t want to—and that was the worst part.

Even as he pictured Tony doing the exact same thing to Iron Man, all of that was fading into the background of his brain with each expert stroke of Tony’s hand. He couldn’t find the will to be hurt or disgusted, everything just focused on his dick. It was horrible, and Steve knew that it would make him feel so much worse afterward, but even knowing that now, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Tony,” he gritted, but his hips were moving, working into Tony’s hand. “We just cleaned up.”

Tony frowned, but his eyes were mischievous. His pupils were huge, and not just with desire, Steve knew. “Well, I want you again. And I don’t want to go to group.”

“That means we gotta shower again, and I gotta replace the—fuck—the sheets again,” Steve tried to argue.

Tony grinned. “You wanna shower again? We can do that. And you know you don’t have to change the sheets. You just do that because you’re a good soldier, darling.”

Tony’s wrist flicked just so, and it had Steve sputtering for a moment.

“C’mon, baby,” Tony urged. “I know you’ve been waiting so long. How much longer are we gonna have—”

Steve cut him off with a kiss before Tony could ruin all of this talking about the divorce. Tony was very high now—he must have popped more pills while Steve went looking for the robe. He’d been on a downswing after the shower, but now he was talking about things he shouldn’t be and didn’t seem capable of being still.

“I want you to fuck me this time,” Tony panted, spreading his legs. Steve nestled between them, grunting softly when Tony wrapped his thighs around his waist and squeezed. Definitely high. Tony only ever let Steve fuck him when there were drugs involved or he came early and was too blissed out to be self-conscious. Tony thought of himself as weak when another man fucked him, but Steve didn’t give a shit. Though he had to say he very much enjoyed being the only man Tony allowed to do this.

Well, maybe the only man.

Steve focused on worrying Tony’s neck as he prepped himself, then fucked into his hand when Tony started to lube him up too. As with everything in his life, Tony was efficient and quick, leaving more time for the main event.

Steve reached between them to guide his cock to Tony’s entrance, watching the way Tony’s eyes lit up with pleasure when he found it. But Steve didn’t push in right away.

“Am I the only one?” Steve asked, his voice rough.

“The only one _what_, Steve,” Tony growled, squirming to try to get Steve inside him any way he could.

“Who fucks you.”

Tony eyed him then, and Steve could see the real Tony—the sober Tony—clawing at the windows of his eyes. “Why? Would you share me?”

“Am I?” Steve asked, nudging the head of his cock against Tony again.

“Jesus fuck, Steve,” Tony hissed. “Stop doing that ‘n fuck me!”

“Am I sharing you?” Steve demanded. He had to know, and this was the only way he was going to find out.

“Not yours to share anymore,” Tony grunted, forcing himself up onto his elbows. He sank his teeth into the join of Steve’s shoulder and neck and sucked hard—a sweet spot that rendered Steve absolutely helpless against all better judgement.

He betrayed himself as he slid into Tony, listened to him whine and moan as he worked himself deeper, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed.

“Now,” Tony panted. “You’d better shut up and fuck me, Rogers.”

* * *

They ended up staying in bed all day. Steve orgasmed nine times, three times inside Tony, twice with Tony inside him, once by Tony’s mouth, twice by his hand, and once from Tony’s tongue.

“God _dammit_,” Steve groaned, slumping into the mattress with another release.

Make that twice by Tony’s tongue.

Cum soaked the sheets beneath him, but Tony was far too high to care as he moved his head between Steve’s legs and started sucking his cock dry (despite his complaints about his jaw hurting earlier). Steve was too drunk with bliss to notice that he started fucking into Tony’s mouth, but he did notice that Tony was eager to take him. 

Discarded pad thai was strewn on the floor beside the bed from lunch, noodles and vegetables strewn out on the hardwood. Steve could also see the remains of a bottle of lube they’d emptied, though now he wondered if it had always been that low or if Tony had been using it with Iron Man.

“Mm, Tony,” Steve mumbled, lifting his hips again as Tony’s sucking started him into overstimulation. “That’s enough, babe.”

He shivered as Tony’s warm mouth left his cock, and dimly remarked how it had been almost half a decade since he’d reached eleven orgasms in one day. Tony was sitting at four, but the last one had been with the assistance of drugs, Steve was sure. Technically all of them had, of course. Tony had popped his most recent round of pills while Steve was in the middle of fucking him. Didn’t even try to hide. And Steve didn’t care.

He didn’t know which was worse.

“Good for you?” Tony asked, his voice a bit hoarse. He was behind Steve again, hands on his ass, rubbing everywhere he could reach. Probably peaking this most recent high.

“Always good,” Steve hummed in reply, soaking in the sensation of Tony’s calloused fingers moving along his skin.

They were both absolutely filthy, sticky, and Steve knew getting in the shower would lead to a few more rounds. He didn’t care. He’d needed this day just as much as Tony had. It would probably be their last like this together.

“Fuck me again?” Tony asked, hands moving down Steve’s thighs now.

“You said it was gonna start hurtin’,” Steve reminded him, gently easing back against Tony to sit up, ultimately ending up on his lap.

“One more time, we can use extra lube,” Tony offered, hands moving up Steve’s thighs now. His right hand found Steve’s flaccid dick and started stroking.

Steve grit his teeth, too overstimulated, but there was a heat behind it now, and he started thickening up in Tony’s hand after just a few moments.

“Look at you,” Tony chuckled, kissing his shoulder blade. “Already getting hard for me.”

“We should clean up,” Steve said, moving his hand over Tony’s to still him. “You need to get some rest. And I need to check on what the Avengers are doing.”

“What Iron Man’s doing,” Tony corrected with a squeeze to his cock.

“Is that who you’re with?” Steve asked. Tony had pretty much confirmed it earlier. Steve just hadn’t been coherent for long enough to even start processing.

“Don’t worry about who I’m with, babe,” Tony said.

That was confirmation enough.

Steve reluctantly moved away then, and Tony let go of him. He swung his feet to the floor and made his way to the bathroom on shaky legs. He started the shower, wondering just how long it would be until Tony disappeared again to go off with his lover. How many times a week they had this, when he’d been waiting over a year, and the Tony he was making love to was high as a kite.

He moved to the threshold and Tony looked over at him, his eyes showing momentary…something. Regret maybe. Sadness. Hard to tell when he was so intoxicated.

“Come on,” Steve said with a shrug toward the shower. “We’ll find something to do in there.”

Tony grinned, making his way over with an uneven gait. He didn’t so much as kiss Steve when he walked by. No, that was reserved for someone else now, Steve suspected.

Even as Tony sank to his knees on the plush bathroom rug outside the shower, eyes dusky, Steve knew he was a means to an end. He was a way to keep the high going, a way to fully experience it.

And yet he walked over, fingers tangling in damp hair as Tony’s mouth wrapped around his cock. Steve braced himself on the shower door with one hand as Tony sailed past foreplay and swallowed his length, head bobbing in perfect rhythm as Steve started rolling his hips. His drug had always been Tony Stark, but as his head tilted back and he felt Tony’s throat vibrate around him with a hum, he wondered at what point he’d crossed into becoming the person who spent the whole day fucking his drugged up husband after finding out he was with another man. When he had become the man who wasn’t even upset by it right now because he was getting his dick sucked.

Tony’s tongue ran the length of him, swirling at the head. Steve adjusted his stance, staccato motions of his hips minute but more than enough on Tony’s throat, he knew. Tony sucked earnestly then, and soon Steve was slumped against the shower door, holding Tony’s nose flush to his skin as he swallowed down everything Steve gave him.

It didn’t even feel good to get off that time. Just a release of tension.

Tony stood after making a show of licking his lips, entering the shower as though nothing had happened. Because in his mind, it probably hadn’t.

And still Steve said nothing. He just straightened his shoulders and followed to begin washing his hair. They were just going through the motions, careening down the same tracks they’d built and used again and again over the years.

“I wish you’d fuck me more,” Tony said with shampoo lathered in his hair.

“I wish you’d stay sober more,” Steve replied curtly, taking the bottle of shampoo to start on his own hair.

Tony laughed and said nothing else.

Steve was quick in the shower, but when he moved to leave Tony to wash, Tony’s hand folded over his. He knew what was being asked before Tony did anything, so he pulled his hand away. Tony’s eyes were so vacant that Steve wasn’t even sure he’d recognize him if this same man approached him on the street.

“No more,” Steve said with a shake of his head. “If you get sober, we can have this as much as you want.”

Tony rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away. “Get your clothes on before I’m finished.”

Easy enough.

Steve stepped from the shower and grabbed a towel. “I’d do it, you know,” he said to the shower door. “This. Every day. If you’d just stop with it all.”

Water sloshed against the shower door. “Fuck off, Steve. Or fuck me, those are the options.”

Steve didn’t move right away. He actually considered going back into the shower and getting hard yet again to give Tony one last good fuck before this was all over. His fingers twitched as he nearly reached for the handle.

But he didn’t.

“I hope he’s good to you,” Steve said instead.

He walked out of the bathroom, but let the door shut softly behind him.


End file.
